


a house of cards

by sparklylulz (sparklyulz)



Series: Happy Birthday Sara! [2]
Category: Ten Inch Hero
Genre: F/M, Snark, priestly is better than your faves, three times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:27:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklyulz/pseuds/sparklylulz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or: three times Tish wants to kiss Priestly and the one time she does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a house of cards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [strikingsparks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikingsparks/gifts).



> day two. for sara. title from taylor swift.

_one._

She meets Priestly in the worst way: when she’s incredibly hungover and on the tail end of a particularly crappy break up.

He waltzes into the sub shop, all orange hair and facial piercings, declaring himself the new daytime cook. Trucker just sort of shrugs and throws him an apron to cover up his stupid shirt declaring _“WARNING: I DO DUMB THINGS”_ in bright yellow lettering.

“And what’s your name, sourpuss?” He asks Tish after she slams an order in front of him.

The sizzling of the bacon in front of him is causing her head to pound and her stomach to lurch and she throws him a glare.

“You are so out of your league, bud,” She smirks, eyes flicking up to his mohawk in mild disgust.

He lets out a chuckle, “And yet, I’m not the one hungover at work.”

She rolls her eyes and goes back to serving plates. Unfortunately, Priestly isn’t the only one who thinks Tish is particularly sour that afternoon and she makes really crappy tips, which sucks more than usual since Derek kicked her out on her ass and she needs money for a new apartment.

She sighs in defeat at the register at the end of the night, pulling her share of the tip pool out.

“Hey, some dude at table three left this an hour ago, I cleaned the table since you were busy with that asshole in booth four.” Priestly appears over her shoulder and holds up four crisp twenty bills.

Tish takes her half and as she reaches the door she remembers that there is no table three since the bathroom overflowed last March.

Over her shoulder she sees Priestly tuck his wallet back under the shelf to finish cleaning the grill.

“Hey, mohawk guy,” She calls to him, and his head shoots up in response, “My name’s Tish.”

She probably should’ve seen what was coming then and there as his lips stretched into a wild smile and her stomach flipped for reasons completely unrelated to leftover alcohol.

-

_two._

When Tish turns twenty-two, Trucker insists on having a big party for her at the sub shop. Tish never really celebrates her birthday mostly because she doesn’t like the reminder that she’s now another year older and still doesn’t have much to show for her life.

Even worse, Priestly shows up with some short blond girl, who has her own array of tattoos and Tish rolls her eyes before he’s even set both feet completely in the room.

“Wow, I don’t remember putting ' _skanky, underaged blond_ ’ on my birthday wishlist for this year,” Tish snaps, much to the horror of Jen.

“Oh, well that’s a relief, I wouldn’t want the toaster oven I bought you to go to waste.” Priestly responds without a moment’s hesitation.

And even though he wears ridiculous shirts and sports even more ridiculous hair colors, Priestly always knows exactly how to get under her skin in the worst ways. She watches as he retreats with his date and feels her hands curl into fists.

“Now, Tish. Bad vibes will only give you wrinkles early in life,” Trucker whispers into her ear as he passes by.

When she goes to collect all the cards left on the table, there’s one box wrapped in newspaper.

She tears the paper off and stares down at her brand new toaster oven. Torn between a laugh and sob, she turns to stare out at where Priestly is saying goodbye to his date.

“You really bought me a toaster oven,” Tish says later, walking over to where he stands, hands awkwardly in his pockets.

“Yeah, well, you always ask for toast on your morning break, so I thought maybe this way you’d learn to cook your own food.” He smirks, sticking his tongue out playfully.

“So, who was with you tonight?” Tish asks, wishing she didn’t sound so desperate.

“Her name’s Amy, and she’s a friend.” He answers, but rolls his eyes at Tish’s raised eyebrow. “She’s also a lesbian.”

He’s taken aback when Tish pushes herself up to his cheek to leave a small peck.

“Thanks. For the gift, I mean.” And then she takes her chance to cut and run before he notices her shaking palms.

-

_three._

Her car breaks down right after work one night following the confrontation with Tadd. It’s dark and mostly she’s too angry to feel sorry for herself. Her phone is lost somewhere in her room at home or maybe in the office at the shop, so she has to suck it up and scout for any nearby homes.

She hikes her way up to an old lady’s house off the interstate and asks to use her phone, trying not to touch any of the pink crochet or creepy porcelain dolls.

The first number she dials is instinct, she tells herself she calls the sub shop because Trucker might be there and it’s _home_ , but deep down she knows Priestly stays late to clean after she leaves.

“Hey, sorry but we’ve already closed for-”

“Priestly! It’s Tish,” She cuts him off quickly, “My tire blew right outside of exit 45B, can you give me a lift?”

Without hesitation he tells her he’s coming to get her, and when she hangs up, she tries very hard to ignore the heavy thumping in her chest.

He shows up about ten minutes later, his small Toyota is pulling in behind her own beat up Ford, and before either of them realizes what’s happening, his arms snake around her.

“You okay?” He asks, big eyes all earnest and searching.

“Priestly, my car just has a flat tire, I think I’ve survived worse,” She says, but there’s no real bite to her words. She doesn't mention the slap, but she knows he gets what she means

He inspects the damage and after about ten minutes the spare is put on and they’re standing awkwardly in the dark.

“I guess you’re kind of like my knight in shining eyeliner, lately, huh?” She laughs a little, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

“Too bad my armor’s at the cleaners from the last guy I killed.” He half-smiles back, and she can only hope he’s joking, but maybe she should check Tadd’s MySpace just to make sure.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She asks, and not for the first time she knows that she _wants_ to see him tomorrow.

“Like you could get rid of me that easily.” He says retreating to his car, “Call me if you need a ride tomorrow.”

She wishes the entire ride home that another tire would bust so she’d have an excuse to call him anyway.

-

_plus one._

She never calls him Boaz. Not after the first few days, unless she’s angry at him for overfilling the dishwasher or screwing up an order at work.

Mostly things don’t change between them, there’s just as much snark as ever, but now at the end of her shift she’ll kiss his cheek before climbing into his car and hijacking the stereo because _Three Days Grace, really?_ He needs all the help he can get.

Today she doesn’t touch the stereo, which causes him to give her a raise eyebrow, but she pretends she doesn’t see it.

They step out at their kind-of-shared beach house, and when they get into the living room, he moves over to grab the grocery list.

“I figured I’d grab some stuff while I’m out tomorrow. Do you need anything else?” He asks, trying not to look freaked out by her silence.

Finally, she gets the courage to open her mouth, “Um, well you might wanna cross the Tampax off the list.”

“Look, Tish, I know I kind of freaked out that one time, but I can do it without any outgoing panic calls, I swear.” He says irritatedly, and she starts laughing.

“What?” He huffs, but she just keeps laughing at him.

“Boaz, I wasn’t trying to save you from embarrassment, you know how much I love seeing you blush,” She winks. “I just meant that I won’t be needing them.”

His eyebrows scrunch together and it’s her turn to huff.

“Like... I won’t be needing them for nine months or so...”

When Priestly faints, she has to fight the urge to take a picture before she goes to wake him up. She leans down to kiss him and when he opens his eyes and smiles at her, she doesn’t feel nearly as scared as she did in the sub shop bathroom holding that pink box.

“Tish,” He finally says, eyes still a little glazed over.

“Yeah, Priestly?”

“Let’s just not name him Boaz, okay?” He says, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“It’s a deal.” She says in return before she leans down to put her lips back to his.


End file.
